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Apr 2020
It's funny how time and distance makes maturity grow.
Growing old is not as cold as I once imagined it to be.
I once felt like I knew you front, back, and center.
But retrospection showed affection as rejection.
The girl I knew I would torment with venting.
Of love, and life, and especially of death.
All the ways I'd scare her without ever,
Realizing I was comprising our last,
Love letter together, cold sweater,
I sweat her and swept her under,
Leaves of all these autumns,
Buried underneath our,
Fractured friendship.
But I was in love.
She was not.
so we got

then nothing
Happy birthday to an old friend, wherever she is.

Really debated about posting this. Thought I was done posting poems, but here I am.
Jack Jenkins
Written by
Jack Jenkins  27/M/Washington State
(27/M/Washington State)   
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